Short Stories
by maripaz6
Summary: A collection of short ATLA stories. Currently, "Ozai tells Azula her Mother is gone and her Grandfather is dead. Her reaction is... entirely Azula. Azula POV."
1. Chapter 1

**Position/Team: Earthbender, Fire Ferrets**

 **Write about the persons when they are a part.**

 **Prompts:** " **Anime was a mistake" [dialogue] (1 pt),** **Aang [character] (2 pts),** **Everyone's an animal! [AU] (3 pts)**

 **Earth is mentioned in story.**

 **Word Count: 1179**

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Sokka found Aang sitting and sulking on the icy floor. "What's wrong?" he asked, plopping down beside him. "Why the sad face?"

"I thought Katara was going to be here," the monk answered softly. "I haven't seen her since Sozin's Comet and I really miss her."

"Aang, you'll see her soon enough," Sokka offered reasonably. "She's coming home tomorrow morning."

"I know— it's just that— that— I'm asking her to— to marry me," he answered in a rush.

Sokka's eyebrows rose. "Marry her?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"Yes!" Aang cried, pulling a betrothal necklace from his pocket. "I made this and I'm going to give it to her— it's just— just—"

"You didn't think to ask me or my dad's permission?" Sokka interrupted incredulously.

"Nooo…" Aang answered, eyes wide. "Should I have?"

"Yes!" Sokka shouted. "It's a Water Tribe _tradition_. You're coming with me. The sun's down and the moon's out— come on!" The Water Tribe boy grabbed Aang's arm and dragged him to Hakoda's igloo. "Dad, you busy?" he called.

"No," came the response. "Come on in, Sokka."

Sokka pushed aside the furs and hurried inside. Within seconds he'd explained Aang's intentions and their predicament, emphasizing that it had to be tonight, for Katara came tomorrow and dammit, he'd been waiting to 'vet' Katara's suitors the old Water Tribe way for years and he wasn't going to let his only opportunity slip away!

Hakoda nodded throughout the speech. When Sokka finally finished speaking, he smiled at his son and said, "If that's what you want, Sokka, then I guess it is our duty to welcome the Avatar to the Water Tribe… the traditional way. You get the drinks, I'll fetch the food, and Avatar Aang— have a seat."

Sokka grinned at sight of Aang uncomfortable sitting on his father's monstrous penguin-hide rug. When Aang noticed his mirth and scowled at him, Sokka only saluted before hurrying away to the storeroom. It was time to get Aang drunk, and that called for nothing less than the Water Tribe's finest rum.

. . . . . . . . .

Hakoda smiled to himself as he returned with provisions. His daughter was getting married! He had no doubt she'd accept her suitor, and from what he'd heard about Avatar Aang, it would be a happy match.

Humming to himself, he re-entered his igloo and dropped the sack of food in the entrance. Sometime in the night, a meat-eating contest would occur, and with Avatar Aang being a vegetarian, Hakoda had decided to bring bundles of seaweed as well, so he could still participate.

Stepping into the main room, he was surprised to see that Avatar Aang was already holding a half-empty glass of some dark amber liquid; Sokka must have already begun. Settling himself on the ground, Hakoda refused Sokka's proffered glass and instead asked the Avatar: "What are your intentions with my daughter?"

Avatar Aang smiled dreamily. "Katara's perfect for riding."

Hakoda was speechless. His son, however, was not, for Sokka blanched and shouted, "What did you just say?" Then he shook his head and muttered, "I need a drink." He took a deep swig from the bottle just as Aang continued:

"You know, she's a penguin! And we could go penguin sledding together!"

Hakoda regarded his future son-in-law with a worried gaze, then turned to Sokka. "Son, is he normally like this?"

But Sokka only hiccupped, a goofy grin on his face. "May-may-maybe," he answered. Then he pointed above Hakoda's head and shouted, "Look at that big Magpie-Bee!"

"Where?" Hakoda spun but there was nothing above his head; however, Sokka had collapsed into a fit of laughter.

"The Magpie-Bee can hear me!" his son exclaimed excitedly. "This is so coooool!"

"It is…" Aang slurred, ambling over to Sokka. "And what a cute baby Sabertooth-Moose-Lion cub you are!" he crooned as he ruffling Sokka's hair with a silly smile on his face.

Hakoda glanced between the two boys, then his eyes widened. He snatched the bottle from Sokka, ignoring his son's protests and pleas to the 'Magpie-Bee' to return his precious, and glanced at the label.

It was nearly illegible, stained substances Hakoda did not want to guess the identity of; however, when he squinted he could make out the words: "100—Li-n-eal-Urine".

 _Lion-Seal urine?!_ Hakoda thought incredulously. Not stewed sea prune rum? Lion seal urine? When had his ancestors ever drunk _that_? And why did they still have a bottle of it in their stores? How had it survived that long? Who would drink—

Then the Avatar hiccoughed and his son began cackling and shouting, "Rabbit-deer! Rabbit-deer! What do you hear?" and Hakoda loosed a long-suffering sigh. Only idiots would drink 100 year old Lion-Seal urine. Idiots like his son and, it seemed, his future son-in-law. Exasperated, he tossed the bottle away, wondering how to salvage this situation. He still needed to interrogate his daughter's suitor, but how?

However, Hakoda was unable to think of an answer, for Sokka got to his feet, flapping his arms like a bird and screaming, "Go away, you rabbit-beef! Or I'll eat you! I like meat!"

His son clipped the Avatar on the jaw, and the boy crept away from Sokka, muttering, "My penguin, where are you? I miss you, my penguin!" Sokka chased after the huddled Avatar, pounding the boy's shoulders and back. Yet throughout it all, Avatar Aang only cried, "Penguin! Penguin, I love you—!"

Hakoda sighed. He guessed he couldn't refuse the boy's courtship now, not when even inebriated with some crazy spirit he still professed to love his daughter.

"Hey, Moose-Lion!" the Avatar called suddenly, staggering to his feet. "Do you miss the hippo-pig?"

"No," his son answered solemnly. "All she does is throw rocks at me." He paused, then added very gravely, as if he were confessing his sins, "Anime was a mistake."

Then the two broke out into hysterical laughter, though for the life of him Hakoda couldn't tell what was so funny.

When they'd finally calmed down, he got to his feet and, taking each of their arms, tried to get them to lie on the ground. They'd have to sleep off the fermented Lion-Seal urine.

Yet he was aging faster than he'd like to admit and, even though they were hallucinating, Sokka and Aang escaped him and raced outside, Aang still moaning for his 'Penguin' and Sokka shouting, "Help! Help! The Magpie-Bee assaulted me!"

Hakoda watched them go, shaking his head at their antics. They'd likely confuse the village, naming animals that didn't live at the South Pole, but they'd do no harm. Returning to the warmth of his igloo, Hakoda settled into his furs, ready for a nap after that fiasco.

However, just as he was drifting off, he thought of Katara and her reaction if she discovered he'd allowed both Sokka and Avatar Aang to wander off drunk. She'd murder him if anything happened to them. Dragging himself to his feet, Hakoda stepped out into the cold, cursing his son for insisting they 'vet' the Avatar before allowing him to marry Katara.

The Avatar had better be worth it.


	2. The Funeral

**Team/Position: Fire Ferrets, Earthbender**

 **Theme: Write about a sad moment for your characters and their baby.**

 **Prompts: (color) white, (smell) baby powder, (restriction) No dialogue**

 **Word Count:** 873

 **A/N: I'm planning a 'sequel' to the first chapter - life's just pretty hectic right now, so hang in there :) It'll take some time.**

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Everything was white. His robes, his people's robes, even the earth itself held a dull, whitish hue, for the light of the moon, rising in the dusky twilight, had bleached the world of its color.

The moon. Zuko turned away, unable to bear its gentle glow. So many had said Mai was his moon and stars, but he knew better. She'd been the light of his life, the sun around which he, a lonely planet, had revolved, and everyone else surrounding him was only faint stars in the sky which provided little warmth compared to the blazing inferno of Mai's love for him.

An inferno which was now extinguished. It was fitting that her funeral was held as the sun set; not just because she was a non-bender, but also because, without her, Zuko was left to face the night alone.

The Fire Sages finished what was probably Mai's burial chant, though Zuko heard none of it. After Mai's death, the entire world had been muted, for without her voice there was little else worth listening to. Yet the sudden silence drew his attention, and Zuko looked down in time to see the funeral pyre ignite, its red-orange flames fanning the heavens and plumes of dark grey smoke floating upwards, until it was lost in the dark night sky.

And from his position on the dias, Zuko would have sworn he smelt the faint scent of baby powder in the smoke.

Mai had loved their daughter. For the brief time she'd shared with her, Mai had devoted everything to their baby girl, even her life.

When the Royal Physician had told her the dangers of her pregnancy, citing high risk of hemorrhaging, Mai had only blinked, then sent the man away. Later, she'd confided in Zuko, telling him that their child was everything to her, that she would sacrifice anything for their child, and that if she died, he was to raise their child himself.

Zuko had agreed, privately thinking that it'd never come to that. But then, as he'd stood there, gazing at her as Mai held their newborn daughter Izumi, named after Mai's great-grandmother, Mai still sweaty and shaky from giving birth, the Royal Physician, face grave, had told Mai she had only a day to live, perhaps even less, depending on the severity of her internal bleeding. Mai had stilled, her skin suddenly cold to touch, and swallowed hard. When the nurse came to take their daughter from them and put the babe to sleep, Mai had scowled, then dismissed the woman.

Zuko had stayed with Mai and Izumi through that night, fully conscious that this would likely be the last night he spent with Mai — ever. He tried to dote on her; however, she only waved his affections away, choosing instead to focus on Izumi. She loved their daughter, and to Zuko it seemed as if she wished to express all that love, a lifetime's worth, in one night.

That night, the room had been silent as a tomb save for Izumi's gurgles, and Zuko had sat down gingerly beside Mai and ran a hand through her long, lank black hair, pausing to cup her sallow, sunken cheek.

Tears had welled in her eyes and she'd tried to speak, but it was beyond her; instead, she'd leaned into his touch, gazing up at him with tired black eyes. Seeing how even that small motion had exhausted her, Zuko smiled down at his wife and child and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his smile widening even more as he realised the smell of baby powder overpowered the scent of the perfume she normally wore. Mai really had dedicated her last moments to their daughter.

He lay there, watching and supporting her as she held their child. She seemed to be fading, and Zuko pulled her close to him as if he could shield her from the inexorable creeping death. He knew her time was near— knew that Katara wouldn't get there in time— knew what was coming. The light in her eyes dimmed, but for one last second it blazed bright again and she pressed a kiss to Izumi's forehead, murmuring something so soft that even Zuko couldn't hear, and then she died in his arms, still clutching Izumi and smelling of baby powder.

Zuko had sat there in silence, staring, shocked, at her body, that empty empty shell, until Izumi had begun to wail. Then, heart heavy, he informed the doctors of their Fire Lady's death.

And now he stood before his people, watching her funeral pyre burn down to only glowing embers. She'd died for Izumi. She'd chosen to carry their daughter to term, and that decision had proven a deadly one. Now he was left alone, staring at the ashes of her body and facing a task meant for two.

He cried bitter tears that night. But when his tears dried, the sun had risen, and Zuko knew he could survive losing Mai. He knew he could honor Mai's memory. He knew he could honor Mai's wishes. And, most of all, he knew he could raise Izumi well, and in doing so honor both him and Mai. She would have been so proud of him.


	3. The Bees and Poppy Beifong

**Team/Position:** Fire Ferrets, earthbender

 **Theme:** Write about a character (or characters) battling an addiction, and the reaction and consequence of someone else finding out.

 **Prompts:** (emotion) disgust; (quote) "It is hard to understand addiction unless you have experienced it" - Ken Hensley; (color) violet; (addiction) stinging themselves with bees

 **Word count:** 1542

 **Warning-** marital violence mentioned, but nothing explicit.

oO0Oo

Poppy Beifong sat up with a groan. Glancing over, she saw the bed beside her was empty, and for that she was grateful. She didn't know if she could face Lao after last night… he'd been in a foul mood, and though she'd tried her best to appease him, it hadn't been enough. She pushed back the beautiful, embroidered covers, then looked down at her bare legs.

She hissed at the sight. Her milky-white skin was mottled with deep, vibrant, purple bruises, along with fading greyish-green specks from the last time he'd been… upset. For some reason, the sight still surprised her, though she'd cried herself to sleep enough times to know that Lao was an unforgiving husband. Even if her infertility weren't her fault, which it most certainly was, Lao still punished her for it.

Still, she'd hoped Lao would have been kinder to her. But by the look of her violent, violet legs, Lao had held nothing back last night. Poppy gingerly lifted herself from the bed and into the bath; however, though the warm water soothed her muscles, it failed to sooth her mind. After years of living like this, she wasn't certain she could continue any longer. Glancing back at the still-steaming bath, she briefly considered ending it, for it'd be so simple. But then her expression hardened. She'd survive it. She always did.

Once she'd dressed in a long robe to hide her purpling bruises, Poppy went to the market. While Lao may have had servants, sometimes she just had to get out of the house. And so she did.

The bustling market distracted her from her aches and pains, and before long, a timid smile crossed her face as she strolled through the vendors hawking their wares, the children shouting and whooping, and the other women making their purchases. But then one of the darting children rammed into her side, and Poppy collapsed to the ground.

"Sorry!" he shouted before he disappeared into the crowd.

Others were beginning to gather around her now, watching her, and so with great difficulty Poppy began to get to her feet; however, she was unable to, for her world was spinning as pain radiated from her side.

"Here." Someone knelt down and supported Poppy's weight. Grateful, Poppy accepted the help, and so she was able to stagger to her feet. "Come in here. You can rest in my shop."

Poppy allowed the wrinkled and wizened woman before her to lead her into what seemed a Chinese medicine shop. Strange parts sat in jars, their vibrant, almost obnoxious colors fascinating her eye. "What are those?" Poppy asked finally, pointing at a jar of small, dried creatures in a pottery urn.

"Those?" the woman asked. "They are bees. Their stingers promote fertility."

Poppy blinked. She'd already tried countless other remedies… perhaps this was the answer, and it had been fate that this woman had helped her off the ground. "I'd like an entire jar," she said, already pulling her purse from her robes.

"My Lady," the woman gasped. "My Lady Beifong. I shall ring up your purchase immediately."

When Poppy Beifong left the shop, her porcelain jar of dried bees under her arms, her breast was filled with hope for the first time in years. Perhaps now, finally, she would have her child.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That night, Poppy stung herself for the first time. It had been a terrifying process to hold the stinger against her flesh and see its indent and know that if she went even an inch deeper it would hurt... but Poppy thought of Lao and his punishment if she failed to produce an heir, and the thought spurred her onward. She plunged the stinger into her thigh, and though it hurt, she felt a self-righteous glow afterwards. She was becoming a better wife for her husband, and she was going to bear his child.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The second time was easier. The third even more so. By the tenth time, Poppy no longer felt the sting, and she began to plunge two stingers, then three, then four into her milky-white flesh in search of that flicker of pain and self-righteousness. Lao had noticed the swollen red marks on her legs, and when she'd told him what they were, he'd congratulated her on her foresight. He still got angry, but when he did, it seemed he was holding something back as he hit her. It may have only been wishful thinking on her part, but nonetheless, Poppy thanked the bees. Within two weeks she'd emptied the porcelain jar with no result, and so she returned.

When she entered the medicine shop again, the old woman ceased her sweeping. "Good morning, Lady Beifong."

Poppy nodded in reply, then halted before the bees again. "These, please."

The old woman shuffled over to Poppy's side. "Those?" she asked querulously. Poppy nodded, and then the woman began to scoop some into Poppy's small porcelain jar. "How often have you been using these?"

Something in her tone made Poppy pause. "Once or twice a week," she lied.

"Good. Don't use these any more than that. It is dangerous for the baby otherwise." Then the woman picked up her broom again and kept sweeping, and Poppy saw herself out.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That night, Lao was merciless. Somehow he'd found out she'd gone to the market and bought more bees, and he was livid. He blamed her for her failure to produce a child, and Poppy bore his blows with as much poise as she could muster; yet, after he'd fallen asleep, she grabbed the small porcelain jar on her bedside and crept into the bathroom, where she plunged stinger after stinger into her soft, white flesh. "Failure," she muttered to herself. "Useless. Failure. You deserve _nothing_."

After that night, Poppy stung herself at every opportunity. Even after her stomach began to swell with child, she was unable to keep herself from opening the jar of dried bees, selecting one, and stabbing it into her flesh. It was the only way to calm her mind. It was the only way to escape. She lived for the pain and self-satisfaction stinging brought her.

When she exhausted what should have been a year's supply in slightly over a month, she returned to the shop. The bell on the door tinkled, and the woman looked up from sorting small, blood red berries. "You're pregnant," she said bluntly.

Poppy nodded, her eyes agleam. "Sell me more," she said, already presenting the woman her jar.

"No," the woman answered. "You are with child, Lady Beifong. It would not be safe. It is hard to understand addiction unless you have experienced it, but I watched my sister succumb to a similar one. I know the signs. I will not sell you any bees, my Lady."

Poppy threw the lid off the woman's stores and began shovelling bees into her jar; however, the old woman grabbed her arm with a surprisingly strong grip and forced her away from the urn. "I will be escorting you home," the woman said. "And I shall tell your husband to watch you."

At the thought, Poppy ceased her struggles. Her anger changed to desperation in a heartbeat. "Please," she begged, "please don't tell him— I can't— please—"

"I'm sorry, but I must. For your child's sake."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The woman did tell Lao, but contrary to Poppy's fears, he didn't lay a finger on her. Instead, he laid her in their bed and treated her as a queen as he stroked her rounded belly. "A son," he said in a reverent voice. "You will bear a son, and he will be strong and he will lead this family to greatness."

Poppy could only give him a strained smile in response. The words of the old woman were still echoing through her mind: dangerous for the baby, dangerous for the baby. She'd stung herself hundreds of times even after she'd discovered she was pregnant — and it was dangerous for the baby.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yet somehow she carried their child to term. Poppy didn't know how, but somehow her enormous belly was rippling with contractions and then she was giving birth.

When she held her daughter in her arms, Lao standing right behind her, running a hand through their daughter's hair, she let the satisfaction wash though her. She'd done it. It may not have been a son, but it had been a daughter, and she could still have more children.

Her daughter yawned, and Poppy's attention was immediately riveted on her daughter. She was so small, so perfect. But then her eyes flickered open, and Poppy beheld the milky white sheen over them.

Behind her, Lao took a step back, disgust on his face. "She— she—"

"She's blind," Poppy finished, self-hatred and sorrow warring within her. Through her actions, she'd destroyed her daughter's life. Just because she'd been to weak to cope without the bees' stings, her daughter would walk through life unseeing. Disgusted with herself, she began to reach for the small porcelain jar that should have been at her bedside; but then she caught herself. She'd already ruined one person's life with her weakness. She wouldn't ruin another. Even if it meant bearing Lao's beatings for the rest of her life.


	4. Grass

**Team/Position:** Fire Ferrets, submitted for the airbender DarleneBean

 **Prompts:** (word) gruesome; (character) Toph; (restriction) Exactly one person must have dialogue; (addiction) eating something inedible

 **Word Count:** 877 words

o0O0o

"Toph! What are you doing?" Aang cried, landing beside her with a _fwump_.

Toph spun, panic in her eyes. She began to back away from him, her mouth filled with grass, her hands clenched behind her back. But he followed her retreat, not letting her get away; finally, she knew she was only centimeters from the wall and there was nowhere left to run. With a sigh, she showed Aang her hand, the grass cupped within there, then opened her mouth wide, revealing her green teeth and tongue.

Aang blanched at the sight. "Toph!" he shouted. "How could you do this to yourself!" He bent the grass from her grip, the stalks fluttering away in the wind. "That's for the Sky Bison to eat, not the humans!"

Toph glared at him. She would do what she wanted. Yet when she tried to tell him so, she was unable to form the words, choked by her shame.

"Why are you doing this?" he pressed, stepping closer to grab her hand. "Toph, this isn't healthy. This isn't good for you. _Why?_ "

She shook her head, refusing to answer. An obstinate silence filled the room, and inwardly, Toph marvelled at the irony. She'd begun eating grass years ago in quiet rebellion against her parents, and now she was ignoring Aang as he interrogated her about her grass-eating. Everyone sought to control her life. But she wouldn't let them. Not again.

She snatched her hand from his grasp, trying her best to remain unaffected by the hurt in his big grey eyes.

"You know we have food, right?" he said, stepping closer to her. "You don't have to eat grass."

Toph scowled at him. As if she were incapable of fending for herself. She chewed the grass in her mouth defiantly. Take that, Aang. He would never understand how she felt. She loved him, but he was marrying Katara instead; nothing she wanted was ever hers. When she'd wanted to play, her maids had insisted she sit quietly in the garden; when she'd wanted to earthbend, to fight, to actually _live_ , her parents had insisted she remain at home, where it was safe; when she'd wanted nothing more than Aang, he had insisted on marrying Katara. It just wasn't fair.

And when the world wasn't fair, Toph did what little things she could to regain control. Even if it was something as mundane as chewing grass. The grass finally mushy in her mouth, she swallowed with a fierce, vicious pleasure.

Aang gasped. "Stop!" he shouted, no doubt horrified by the gruesome sight of her green-stained teeth, lips and tongue. "Stop, Toph! You can't do this to yourself!"

Toph grinned at him, baring her teeth at him. Then, a crippling pain lanced through her stomach, followed by a familiar nauseous feeling. Crumpling over, Toph clutched her midriff, almost falling into Aang as she collapsed to the floor. Then her esophagus began to burn, and she shoved aside his saffron robes to retch on the cold stone.

Aang watched her with wide eyes. When her hair came too close to her still-steaming, greenish-grey pile of sick, he pulled it back with gentle fingers, murmuring soft words of encouragement as her body purged itself.

When she finally finished, she leant into his touch, still shaking. It was comfortable in his arms, and Toph let herself relax into him. It was peaceful. Being in his presence was like having a beautiful piece of space-rock draped around one's arm; it was calming with its constant presence, constant reminder that, if need be, she could use it as an unexpected weapon against the world. In his arms, Toph almost convinced herself that he was hers.

But he wasn't hers. Eyes flashing, Toph pushed Aang away and got to her feet, glaring at him. She began to stalk away, but he caught her hand. "Toph, you need help," he said softly.

She glared at him again, still unable to speak to him. If she spoke, this would all be real, and then she would have mortified herself before him. And she couldn't do that to herself. _Leave me alone,_ she thought desperately. _I can't do this. Please, Aang_.

But he hung onto her arm like a limpet, even going as far as burying her feet in the stone to keep her from leaving. The move amused her, for she was the greatest earthbender in the world; nevertheless, she stopped to listen to what he had to say.

That was a decision she would regret. "Please," he said, "Let Katara help you."

Her eyes narrowed. No. She would _not_ go to Sugar Queen for help. Katara would cluck and heal her and then look at her with those pitying glances, and Toph would not put up with that. Not when Katara had stolen Aang from her. She easily bent herself from the stone, then marched away, head held high. Aang wouldn't know her pain. He couldn't know it. She was strong, and she wouldn't break. And when she felt like she was, she didn't snap. No. She regained control in any way possible, even if that meant eating grass.

And possibly hooking up with a cute earthbender. After all, if she couldn't have Aang, she could have someone else.


	5. The Dai Li

Fire Ferrets earthbender

Earth is mentioned

Words- 805

"Why are you there?"

Contempt

(AU) Horror movie

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After the Hundred Year war ended, Joo Dee's life had greatly improved. No longer was she a slave to the Dai Li; no longer was she a mindless drone of the Earth King. Now, she was her own woman.

Throwing her head back, she breathed in the still night air. A chill breeze blew, whipping her hair and robes to the side, but Joo Dee ignored it, pressing onward towards her home. The waning moon hung low in the sky, glowing a dull gold like a yellowed pearl set in a the deep, dark sky, and the sight sent chills down Joo Dee's spine. It wasn't natural. It wasn't right. The wind plucked at her hair, pushing her, as if it were trying to push her into the dark alleys, and in response Joo Dee pulled her robe around her tighter, her smile faltering. Although she loved her job at the Jasmine Dragon, the hours weren't the best. The walk through the Lower Ring, never pleasant even in open sunlight, was even worst in the darkness.

She picked up her pace, hoping to get home as soon as possible. There, she could lock her doors and bar her windows. There, she could hide from the world, and she would be safe from it. If her long years in the Dai Li had taught her anything, it was how dangerous it was to be out and about in the darkness. And how paper-thin security was.

But the Dai Li were dead. Avatar Aang had disbanded them, and she was safe from them now.

Though she wasn't safe from ordinary cut-throats or murderers. Hurrying through the streets, her footsteps echoing loudly in the emptiness, Joo Dee thought she heard something _swish_ behind her, like the gentle movement of robes against the ground or the quiet shuffle of silent feet.

She spun. "Who's there?" she asked in a quavering voice.

The empty street met her eyes. No stars shone in the sky, masked by the thin fog, and only the yellow light of the moon illuminated Joo Dee's surroundings. The earth tremored beneath her, the cold wind blowing once again. There was no one.

Joo Dee's eyes darted around. Something wasn't right. Something — or someone — was following her. There was a shadow in the alley that she swore hadn't been there before.

Then, the shadow moved.

Joo Dee spun, then broke into a sprint. Her home was only a block away— she could still make it—

And then a hand of earth flew out of the alley and latched onto her ankle, pinning it to the ground. Suddenly stopped, Joo Dee fell headlong against the cobblestones. Before she had time to even open her mouth to call for help, the shadow in the alley stepped out, the moon's yellow light falling on his figure.

Tall. Square shoulders. A conical hat. Long, flowing robes. And, most terrifying of all, the Earth King's insignia over his chest.

The Dai Li. The moonlight illuminated the man's face, and Joo Dee's blood ran cold. It was Long Feng standing before her in the darkness, smiling down at her. "Now, why are you walking alone in these alleys?" he asked softly, drawing closer. "It's dangerous in the Lower Ring at night… why are you over there, Joo Dee, lying helpless on the ground?" He crouched beside her and ran a long finger along her jaw.

"Why— why are you here?" she gasped, shrinking away from him. She wouldn't be destroyed again. She wouldn't lose herself to the Dai Li. She'd done it before, and she still woke in cold sweats from her horrible nightmares. "I— I've done nothing— I swear— please— just stay away—" she begged, looking up at Long Feng with wide eyes. "Please—"

Long Feng smirked. "Oh, I don't think so," he said contemptuously. "The new Fire Lord is a fool, and he will be overthrown. I'll regain my power, starting with you, Joo Dee."

She froze on the ground, pinned like a butterfly for a researcher to examine. This was her worst fear realized. Long Feng had found her again, and she was going to lose herself, become only Joo Dee, a Dai Li clone, again. Terrified, Joo Dee only managed to sob, "Please, no, I'm happy, I've got a job please—"

But Long Feng only smiled benignly down at her, then said in his low, cultured voice which promised nothing but evil, "Joo Dee, the Earth King invites you to Lake Laogai."

Her pupils went wide, and although Joo Dee felt like screaming and shrieking, she heard herself respond mechanically, "I am honored to accept his invitation."

Long Feng smirked, and as they left, Joo Dee following blindly after him, the moon slowly set below the horizon, and the cold wind chilled any who may have been watching.


	6. Sokka's Day

**Team/Position:** Fire Ferrets, earthbender

 **Prompts:** (dialogue) "Looks like it's gonna be a great brawl"

(Location) Kyoshi Island

(quote)

"Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time... I think I've forgotten this before" - Steven Wright

 **Word Count:** 949

oO0Oo

"Looks like it's gonna be a great brawl," Sokka sneered, watching Suki charge Zuko for the umpteenth time. Caught in a loop, reliving the day Zuko invaded Kyoshi Island again and again, Sokka was incredibly bored. At first it had been amusing to change little things and act with no consequence; now, however, nothing was exciting. The thrill of battle had dissipated, and even needling the Kyoshi Warriors was no longer fun.

It still rankled him that they, a bunch of girls, had beat him, though. It stung his pride and was probably why he disliked their leader, Suki, so much. As much as he hated to admit it, she was a far better warrior than him.

And that was why he was watching her fight Zuko.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The repeating loop had other little benefits, too: he could eat as much as he wanted, whenever he wanted,without fear of losing his very well-defined (if he did say so himself) abs. Each morning he'd heap his plate full of meat, and each morning he'd smile at Katara's disapproving glance and say, "I'm a real man, and real men eat meat."

To which Katara would roll her eyes. Once she paused, wrinkled her nose, then said "Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time... I think I've forgotten this before…" but Sokka had quickly dismissed that idea, not wanting to explain what ridiculous things he was doing to Katara. After all, she'd never approve, and he prefered to use his breakfast time to eat and to plan whatever mischief he was going to wreak that day.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Wreaking mischief was fun, but after few "days", it quickly got old. When Sokka awoke to find that he _still_ hadn't managed to escape the loop, he decided something had to be done.

Namely, he was going to escape. This loop was probably fault of some wacky spirit magic: he'd probably slighted some ridiculous spirit or another and now he was stuck: in fact, after thinking about it, he probably offended Kyoshi. He distinctly remembered griping, "Kyoshi must have been dumb as a rock to have women warriors" and Kyoshi, in all her Avatar amazingness, had likely cursed him.

Sokka scowled. Stupid Kyoshi.

He turned to Aang, who was meditating beside him.

"Aang!" he hissed. "Ask Kyoshi why she hates me."

Aang cracked an eyelid. "That's not how meditating works, Sokka. Or being the Avatar."

"Oh, just try it," Sokka groaned. "Please?"

"Fine," Aang answered, sighing. He settled deeper into his position, then fell silent.

Sokka waited, fidgeting, tapping his leg, doing random push-ups and doodling on spare scraps of parchments as Aang summoned Kyoshi. Finally, his eyes shot open and his tatooes began to glow — Sokka sat bolt upright. "Aang!" he cried. "You did it?"

"I am not Aang," came the flat voice of a woman. "I am Kyoshi, and you, Sokka, have insulted me."

Sokka huffed. "You don't say," he replied sarcastically. "The endless repeating day was a big tip off."

Aang — Kyoshi — scowled. "Come to respect my Warriors, and you shall be freed." Then the blinding white glow of the Avatar state vanished, and Aang fell forward. When his eyes opened, he asked, "Did it work?"

"It did," Sokka answered heavily. "And now I have to come up with a plan."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Hey, Suki!" Sokka called after he'd polished off his enormous breakfast. "Can I train with the Kyoshi Warriors?" Even if Kyoshi had been dumb to make all her warriors women — men definitely would have done a better job — he wasn't the one with the freaky spirit magic. He had to at least pretend to respect her warriors.

"Sure," she answered, not even bothering to turn around. "But only if you're not afraid to be beaten by a bunch of _girls_."

Sokka laughed. "As if." He got up, groaning a little because his waistband was cutting into his protruding stomach. "I'll be there in a bit."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Two hours later, Sokka had been beaten. Soundly. By every single Kyoshi warrior.

But he picked himself off the floor and said, "I was going easy on you because you're just women."

Suki smirked. "Then care to go again?"

. . . . . . . . . . .

After a "week" of constant training, Sokka had improved drastically. To his surprise, he'd also come to appreciate the fans and small shields of the Kyoshi Warriors.

Pinned to the floor again by Suki, Sokka looked up at her with wide eyes. "Again?" he asked.

"My pleasure," she replied.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"How interesting," Sokka remarked, yawning as he watched Suki charge Zuko once again. Then he took a bite of his apple, clapping as Suki kneed Zuko in the groin like he'd recommended earlier. Although his relationship with the Kyoshi warrior had started off with some difficulty he'd come to realize she wasn't _terrible_. She was certainly a competent warrior, and her lessons had taught him a lot about sparring, once he'd swallowed his pride and asked her help.

He could come to like her. In time.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The more he learned about Suki, the more he liked her. It was a little frightening how quickly he'd fallen for her — and in falling, he'd been forced to admit one essential truth. Women were warriors. And he didn't want to date anyone but a true warrior.

So before Suki went to charge Zuko, he pulled her close and planted a kiss on her lips. When she looked at him, surprised, he only whispered, "For good luck."

. . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning, Sokka woke up on his bedroll on Appa's back, far from Kyoshi Island. He'd broken the loop— and he almost regretted doing so, for he'd lost Suki's presence in his life.

Somewhere, Kyoshi was laughing at him.


	7. Nightmares

**Team/Position:** Fire Ferrets, earthbender

 **Word Count:** 1100

 **Prompts:** Someone is ticklish (plot point), Someone has just woken up from a nightmare (plot point), Starts and ends with the same sentence (restriction)

 **Bonus point:** element used (earth)

oO0Oo

"I am the greatest earthbender in the world!" Toph slammed her fists against the metal cage, her frantic bangs lost in the noise of the wagon. "Let go of me!"

"That is funny, Toph," Master Lu laughed.

"Yeah." Toph's acute hearing heard the creak as Xin Fu leant over the edge of the wagon, presumably to spit onto the road. "No one can bend metal. Your daddy's gonna pay us good for you."

Toph growled, raking her nails along the cool metal in the dull hope that she would be able to escape; however, only emptiness met her "sight". Although she slammed herself against the unyielding metal, she saw nothing. She couldn't escape. She was trapped and at their mercy. Days passed. Toph grew sick of the interminable travel, Xin Fu and Master Yu's unbroken silence and the clanking and rattling of the metal box against the wagon. But then she heard something both new and old, something which sent chills down her spine.

Her father's voice. "Do you have her?" he said.

"Yeah," Xin Fu spat. "Where's our money?"

"Here." Something heavy was tossed to the ground. "Now give me my daughter." He turned to face Toph's cage. "Toph, your mother and I shall be much more careful with you in the future… Women are not meant to earthbend, and especially not go about barefoot. From now on, your feet shall be bound."

His footsteps approached Toph's cage, menacing and promising pain…

But just before he reached the door, Toph's eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright in her earthen tent, just barely missing slamming her head against the ceiling.

It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

Her heart was racing and her breathing rough as she lowered her walls. In her haste to escape the confines of her earthen tent, her earthbending may have been rather hasty, possibly waking the Aang, Sokka, or Katara, but Toph was too shaky to care. Once she was exposed to the open air, she took a deep, calming breath. And then another. And another. And then before she knew it, she was sobbing on the ground.

"Toph?"

Toph almost jumped at Aang's voice and the soft touch of his hand on her shoulder. She hadn't even heard him approach. "What?" she snapped.

Aang paused. Finally, he sat down beside her. "I'm here for you."

"Thanks," she replied acerbically. "But I don't need your help. I'm strong."

"Even the strongest of us bend," the infuriating airbender quipped. "If you want to talk, I'm here for you."

Toph was stubborn, though, her pride not allowing her to speak. She clamped down hard on her feelings, refusing to let Aang see her cry. She wasn't sure why, but it was important to her. In fact, it wasn't until he was already beginning to nod off in the predawn dimness that she spoke again. "I had a nightmare." Aang didn't say anything to that, although his grey eyes seemed to prompt her to continue, so Toph added, "It was about my dad again. Him locking me up."

"Oh." Aang seemed at a loss for words.

"Yeah, I know it's really stupid but I keep on remembering how helpless I felt in that metal cage and how if I didn't escape I'd be nothing but an empty puppet for the rest of my life and I just can't— I can't— I can't forget it— and—"

"Toph, it's going to be okay." Aang placed a calming hand on her shoulder, and his touch reminded Toph that she couldn't be hyperventilating. She was stronger than that. She was the greatest earthbender in the world. She was _not_ weak. And, as if Aang had known the very thoughts going through her head, he said, "You're one of the strongest person I know."

After taking a deep breath, she said, "That means a lot to me, Twinkle-toes." Then she punched his shoulder.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"That's my way of saying thank-you."

They fell back into companionable silence, the two of them simply sitting there beside the ashes of the fire and looking out into the predawn stillness. Finally, just as the sun was beginning to rise, Aang leaned over, and before Toph was able to stop him, he had grabbed one of her feet and was tickling it.

"Stop!" she cried. "Stop!"

"Nope!" Aang grinned, still tickling her feet. "We can't get all mopey again!"

"Help! Anyone!" Toph shrieked. "Save me!"

Aang smirked. "I thought you were strong, Toph!"

"I am, but not against tickling!" she yelped. She wriggled from his grasp and begin crawling away from him, but she ran into something big and solid: Sokka. "Help, Sokka!" she cried.

Sokka was contemplating it, she knew he was. She could picture him stroking his non-existent beard as he thought about beating up Aang, so when he knelt down she was certain he was going to help her — and then he grabbed her around the waist and shouted, "Aang, I've got her!"

"No!" she shouted. "Katara! They're ganging up on me! Help!"

"Ugh, just go back to bed," Katara ordered, sounding completely exhausted.

"No!" Toph squirmed in Sokka's grasp, trying in vain to evade Aang's tickling. "Sokka! Aang! Let go of me!"

"You'll have to make us," Aang laughed. "After all, you're strong… right?"

"Fine!" Toph shouted, digging her fingers into the earth and slamming a rock the size of Momo into Sokka's stomach. When he crumpled, coughing, she got to her feet, knocked Aang away, and shouted, "I am the greatest earthbender in the world!"

Thinking of that day still made Toph smile: after Aang had helped her, her nightmares disappeared. And therefore, when Aang was having nightmares before The Invasion, Toph knew what she had to do.

"You're strong, Aang," she said without preamble, plopping down beside him. "You're one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can do this, it's you. So stop worrying."

Aang opened his mouth, no doubt trying to protest that he wasn't worried, but Toph interrupted, "And don't even _try_ to lie to me." She tapped the ground meaningfully.

Aang paused, then shut his mouth. Finally, he said in a small voice, "Thank you, Toph." Then he gently punched her on the shoulder.

Toph scowled. "Copy-cat."

"If I really wanted to copy you, I'd pick at my feet and proclaim myself the greatest earthbender in the world."

Toph jumped to her feet. "Okay, that's it. You're cheered up now." She turned and walked away, muttering under her breath. "That insolent airbender. I _am_ the greatest earthbender in the world."


	8. One For All

**Team/Position:** Fire Ferrets / earthbender

 **Word Count:** 1637

 **Prompts:** One For All (Title), (plot point) someone finds a lost child, (plot point) a destructive earthquake, (restriction) No names used (this includes characters and locations)

 **Bonus point:** earthbending

oO0Oo

She crouched in the bushes, looking at the fire which crackled so invitingly. Her parents had warned her against the bad soldiers, telling her just how evil they were, and how if she ever saw a red soldier, she needed to run; however, those red soldiers had their scary helmets off and looked _nice_. She wanted to be with them. They looked _warm._ And they had _food_. She could smell it wafting from their pottery bowls, and the smell of yummy meat made her stomach clench. But she couldn't. Her parents had screamed for her to hide in these bushes, so she was.

Her parents. They had been taking her and her little brother to the big city with its big walls, where it would be safe. But then people in green had come and attacked them. Her parents had screamed about bandits and hiding, and then disappeared.

She had been hiding in the bushes now for a day or two. She really couldn't remember anymore. All she knew was that she was hungry, and she wanted to get out and be able to stand up again, but she couldn't. Her parents' cries still echoed in her ears. It made her indescribably sad to think of them, so instead she knelt as close to the crackling fire as she could and listened to the red soldiers. For a while, all she could hear was the sound of them eating and slurping, but then one of them spoke.

"Hey, you're the General's son, aren't you?" One of the red soldiers, one with a saggy face and a grey-white beard stood up. His bowl of noodles steamed and he used his chopsticks to point at another red soldier, a younger one who was sitting with a group of young men.

"So what if he is?" A red soldier shot to his feet and advanced on the old one.

"Hey, calm down." The one the old red soldier had pointed at put a hand on his friend's soldier. He didn't look afraid of facing the old one at all. He just looked tired. "What is it?"

"Tell your old man that tomorrow's attack is a suicide mission. I can feel it in my bones. Something bad is going to happen. Tell him to call it off!"

The tired looking one sighed. "I can talk to him, but I don't think he will listen. He needs to conquer the City to win the Fire Lord's favor."

The old one spat on the ground. "Do whatever you can," he growled. "Or we're dead." With that he stalked off.

The group of young men watched him go. "Well, that was strange," one of them remarked.

"No stranger than usual," another laughed.

"Leave him be." The tired one was speaking again. "He's old and he's seen a lot. I think I will go talk to my Father. After all, with age comes experience!" He mock-saluted the other red soldiers, then jogged off into camp.

She watched it all. Oh, how she wished her parents were here. They would never have let her sleep alone in the cold, or gone to bed hungry… a bowl of noodles sat abandoned by the fire, and she knew it would fill her empty stomach... at the thought, her stomach rumbled.

"Who's there?" One of the young men jumped to his feet and approached the bushes. A fire blazed in his palm, but this one wasn't like the campfire. This one was scary. It looked like it was ready to burn her. "Show yourself!"

She turned and began crawling away through the thick underbrush. When she thought she had gone far enough, she turned back. She couldn't hear the red soldiers anymore, but she did manage to see the red soldier rejoin his friends by the fire and have another bowl of noodles.

Her stomach rumbled again.

That did it. She was hungry. She was cold. And in the light of the moon, she could see the City's big walls. Inside the city, her parents and little brother might be waiting for her! She had to disobey her parents. She would have to leave the bush, and make her own way to the City.

She walked through the rest of the night. The City's walls always looked so close, but they never were - finally, exhausted, she crawled into the nearest bush she could find and fell asleep.

She woke the following morning, not to the sun's warm rays, but to the sound of battle raging around her. When she peered through the leaves, she saw red soldiers fighting green ones. Fire was flying, as were boulders. It looked scary, and she didn't want to watch them fighting anymore - but then she was the old soldier again. His grey-white beard was sticking out from under his helmet and she had to stifle a giggle. Then she saw what he was doing. He was fighting two green soldiers, and somehow he was winning. The green soldiers ran away, and then suddenly so did the rest of the green soldiers. Only red soldiers were left.

"What do you think this is?" one of them called.

"I don't know," a red soldier replied. When he took off his helmet, she saw that it was the tired one. "But I'm suspicious." The red soldiers all began to clump together, talking and shifting from foot to foot.

Then five green soldiers stepped out. As she watched, they made the earth shake. She was bouncing up and down in her bush. The red soldiers were also bouncing, and they were bouncing higher than she was. Then the earth began to rumble.

"Go!" the tired one shouted. "Run! I'll hold them off!" Without waiting to see if the other red soldiers were listening or not, he put on his helmet. Then he charged at the five green soldiers, flames spurting from his hands as he attacked them. As he got closer, the earth under the other red soldiers stopped rumbling so hard, and they were able to run away. But that left the tired one alone with five green soldiers.

She watched as he fought. His flames never stopped, and it seemed like he could win… then two of the green soldiers stepped back and began making the earth quake again. It rumbled and he began bouncing, and still he fought. But then they made one sharp movement, and a big crack split the ground. It stretched open wide like a mouth waiting to gobble up the tired red soldier, and then it shut with a resounding _crunch._ And between its teeth was the tired red soldier.

The five green soldiers laughed. She knew they were from the City. But she couldn't bring herself to go to them. Not yet. She had liked the tired red soldier, and she couldn't be happy for him. Not yet. He was too young. He might have been tired, but he couldn't have wanted the eternal rest just yet.

So she sat there in the bush, keeping watch over his body. When the sun finally set, she crept out and carefully took off his mask. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You shouldn't have died." She would have said more, but then she heard footsteps behind her, so she ran back to her bush and hid.

The old soldier had returned, and he had with him a fat old man in red. "General-" the old soldier said brokenly, gesturing to the tired soldier's body. "General- He saved us all- and- and- I'm sorry."

The fat old man looked at the tired soldier. Then he fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. "My son," he said heavily. "My beautiful son." He cradled the tired soldier's face in his hands. "Even in dying, you are magnificent. Oh, my son."

The tired soldier was being taken care of now. Her work was done. Now she could find her family in the City. She began to carefully creep out of the bush, praying that she wouldn't make any noise. But she must have made some, because the old soldier spun and glared in her direction. "Who's there?" he shouted, raising a hand of flame. The orange light fell on her, and his harsh expression softened. "General, it's a little girl. She can't be more than seven."

The fat old man looked up. "Thank you," he said. Then he rose and approached her. "How did you get here, child?"

She couldn't respond. After days of not using, her voice wasn't working. But her stomach still was. It rumbled loudly.

The fat old man looked worried. "Where are your parents?"

She shook her head. She didn't know where her parents were. She didn't know where anything was anymore. The City was supposed to have been a good safe place, but she just saw five of its soldiers kill the tired red one, and she had liked the tired red one!

"Are you lost?" he asked.

She paused, then slowly nodded. She was lost. She needed to find her parents, but she didn't know where they were. She didn't know where anything was anymore.

"Then I shall help you," he said. "Come with me, child." He held out his hand to her, and she stared at it blankly. "Come on, take my hand," he said. So she did so, and together they returned to the camp. He gave her something to eat and a warm place to sleep, and as she went to bed that night, she heard him whisper, "I am sorry, my son. You were brave to the end, sacrificing yourself for your fellow soldiers, but you never deserved to- to die. Not this young. I should never have chosen this. I should never have chosen to attack this City. You paid for my folly, my son. You paid with your life."


	9. The Gray Beach

**Team/Position:** Airbender

 **Word Count:** 1166

 **Prompts:** (restriction) Include the following sentence three times - "Just because it's in a book, doesn't mean it's right.", The Gray Beach (Title).

 **Bonus point:** Airbending

 **A/N:** This is written by my teammate, DarleneBean. I'm just submitting for her :)

Iroh carefully closed the booked that had consumed his thoughts for the last few weeks. It was a forbidden manuscript, an old Air Nomad philosophy scroll. For years, Iroh had been in search of literature from other nations, particularly that of Air and Water. Written word on everything from bending technique to socioeconomic ledgers was valuable to him, as a future leader he wanted it all. " _Just because it's in a book, doesn't mean it's right._ " His father's words rang in his head, just as if he were a small boy again, carrying a book easily the size of his wiry body. Iroh grinned at the memory. He'd found many enlightening truths in books over the years...

But right now something else was distracting his concentration, consuming his thoughts. He'd had _that_ dream again. The startling image of the unmistakable city of Ba Sing Se burning, conquered, still shook the normally gentle man to his core. In the last few decades, Iroh had learned to trust the spirits and their guidance, but was the destruction of another Earth kingdom city really what they wanted? Maybe if _he_ was the one leading the campaign, Iroh could make it a less brutal affair than most Fire Nation… Of course! Realization struck him with unexpected clarity. For months now, the spirits had been trying to tell him to take on the responsibility of conquering Ba Sing Se, that way the death toll, destruction, desecration, and scattering of knowledge could be eliminated or at least reduced.

Although, he could be misinterpreting the dream's meaning entirely. It was possible the images he saw were a warning of what could occur should he make any move against Ba Sing Se. In addition to that, there was reason to believe that the Northern Water Tribe was growing in population, that proliferation would no doubt need to be stifled very soon. As the leading general of the Fire Nation, Iroh would be required to be a part of that.

With these heavy thoughts swirling around, engaging his active mind, Iroh sat back at his desk, absentmindedly stroking his greying beard.

In the last five years, Iroh had made sixteen trips into the Northern Ocean, all scouting oriented and all inadvertently serving to further his illicit appreciation of the other nation. They were indeed thriving, despite the embargo the Fire Nation had attempted to maintain over the years. Iroh thought it was quite stunning, their fierce determination, pride and skill all contributing to their continued survival. The aging general had no desire to destroy that. And he knew it was only a matter of time before his father asked him to do exactly that.

Iroh recalled a conversation they'd had while walking in the garden a few years ago. Well, _he_ had been walking, his father, at age seventy-three, had to hobble somewhat, hand on his elder sons arm, to reach the turtle-duck pond.

000

"The latest reports are no more than we expected. Those tribal rubes are trading with the Earth kingdom peasants more and more. They're growing stronger." Azulon's eyes narrowed in cold calculation.

"That's true, they are getting stronger. Perhaps that will make them careless?" The two reached the pond and Iroh let a few crumbs of grain fall to the water.

"Yes, yes, they always become careless. The young become bold heedless of the warnings from the their betters." Neatly folding gnarled hands over his walking stick, The Fire Lord peered down at the infant turtle-ducks.

"In a recent reading, I came across a passage that described teams of two, a mentor and a student, old and young working together in a respectful relationship that taught both parties the virtues of the other." Iroh didn't mention that this was from Airbender literature. "It seeams to me, that our culture could take advantage of this idea more in order for our younger generations to better learn from the old."

A sly grin cracked a corner of the Fire Lord's face, "Ah my son, if only it were possible to avoid the folly of youth, but alas just because it's in a book, doesn't mean it's right." He observed Iroh with rare joviality as he repeated the phrase he'd been saying to his eldest since the day Iroh learned to read.

Iroh blinked for a moment before releasing a genuine chuckle. It had been a long time since his father had said that to him.

"It has always been the same with you. Devouring books and treating them like gospel." Azulon scoffed, "Though your military prowess would advance the merit of investing time in literature." He conceded with a nod, eyes distant. "You're still too soft on them. Dozens of successful campaigns in the Earth kingdom and yet they still defy our rule. You must stop letting them live, Iroh, if you want to be an efficacious Fire Lord."

This gave the aging general pause. He wasn't really surprised that the Fire Lord had discovered his habit of releasing prisoners rather than executing them. He just knew that that was one indulgence he couldn't let go of. Saving people, regardless of race, was the only thing that made Iroh feel like more than a simple warmonger.

"I understand, Father." Iroh conceded with a slight bow, having no intention to comply.

The Fire Lord nodded., "Very good, now we can talk about those Northern peasants."

000

Since the time of that conversation, many small raids into Northern outposts had taken place and the Fire Lord had been feeling quite confident with their effect, feeling he'd once again subdued the powerful Northern Water Tribe. But just a few weeks ago, a large coordinated assault on one of the Fire Nation occupied northern outpost had wiped out the force stationed there and rekindled Azulon's thirst for northern blood.

Iroh looked back down at the philosophy scroll. It was open to a beautiful depiction of Airbenders of all ages practicing their trade together by the water. It was a stunning image that evoked a strong sense of community and peace. " _Just because it's in a book, doesn't mean it's right_." Somehow, Iroh just couldn't believe that what he saw on the paper was false. A small boy teetering on the edge of the group caught his eye, as the artist perfectly captured the young boys struggles, one hand reaching out to steady himself in the grey sand. The image sharply reminded him of Zuko.

It would be a few more weeks of meticulous route finding, strategy research and siege weapon design before Iroh could approach his father with a more moderate and realistic alternative to genocide. If Azulon demanded that he to conquer either the Northern Water Tribe or the Earth Kingdom; he would have to make a choice.

Iroh knew what was expected of him, but there was still a part of him that could not forget the disturbingly vibrant memory of Ba Sing Se in flames. There had to be a reason for that dream…


	10. Her Name Was

**Team/Position:** Future Industries Fire Ferrets / firebender

 **Word Count:** 1240

 **Prompts:** Her Name Was (Title), (plot point) someone burns an important document, (restriction) End with the following: "Thinking back, he/she wondered if he/she would have done things differently. A smirk came across his/her lips. He/She wouldn't."

 **Bonus point:** firebending

oO0Oo

Sitting in the cold, carved throne, watching her blue flames flicker against the walls of the empty room, Azula wondered if this was what true happiness felt like. It was lonely, but the powerful always walked a lonely path. She had struggled and fought to become Fire Lord: assassinating her esteemed grandfather, discrediting her old fuddy-duddy Uncle, sabotaging Zuko, and finally poisoning her Father.

But in the end, she had achieved her dream. She was Fire Lord now, the ruler of the Fire Nation. Her word was law. Yet somehow, she still felt… incomplete. It was a haunting feeling, one which she could not shake, one which left her with empty smiles and even emptier words. It was as if she had somehow still failed, even when she _was_ Fire Lord. Did she miss her family, that den of poisonous vipers which had stood before her and the throne? She ruthlessly quashed that thought, but nevertheless she found herself wondering, staring into the depths of the darkened room and remembering.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She was fourteen, just realizing how far she was from the throne. She was sixth in the line of succession… but if she played her cards right, she could jump to third. A small, secretive smile crossed her lips as watched her foolish Uncle Iroh laughing and playing with his two-year old grandson. Uncle's decision to remain in the Fire Nation and attack neither Ba Sing Se nor the Northern Water Tribe could work in her favor, if she managed to paint him as a craven coward, remaining near his Father because of weakness and misguided political ambition. If she could only pin him with some atrocious, treasonous crime, one which would destroy his entire line… oh, she could kill two turtleducks with one stone. It would require long careful planning and help from her power-hungry father, but it was possible.

Now, to set the foundation.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was her sixteenth birthday, and Azula knew the perfect present. After two years of preparation, it had been finally time to act. "Where is grandfather?" she asked demurely, looking around the reception hall which was packed with various Caldera nobles, the cream of society, all there to celebrate her birthday.

Her father smirked. "He is… lying on the floor of his room in a puddle of his own blood," he murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is very tragic."

"And how would you know that?" she asked, a devilish smile turning up the corners of her lips.

"Let's just say… I paid very close attention to the health of my late father. It was of utmost importance to me."

"I'm sure it was," Azula drawled. "The servant should come running in any second now, screaming treason…"

And as if summoned by her words, a distraught maid sprinted into the room and threw herself before Crown Prince Iroh. "Murderer!" she shrieked. "You killed your father, Fire Lord Azulon!"

Uncle Iroh blinked. "What do you mean?" he said.

"I saw you enter the Fire Lord's rooms earlier this evening," the woman spat. "And when I went in to clean his room, he was lying dead on the floor. Murderer! Killer!"

"You are mistaken," Uncle Iroh said gently, laying a hand on the woman's arm. "I was not in my father's rooms earlier. I was enjoying a picnic with Princess Azula on the slopes of Caldera."

"Uncle, I don't know what you're talking about." Azula's cold voice cut through the woman's hysterical sobs. "We never went picnicking… you never have time for me, only Zuko. Your alibi is rather flimsy."

"Guards, take him away." Ozai called. Two men in bone-white masks shackled Iroh's wrists together and led him from the room. "The Fire Sages shall decide his guilt."

Of course, the Fire Sages had been bribed to proclaim Iroh guilty and thus ineligible for the throne. And when evidence surfaced in the form servants testifying that Lu Ten had helped plan the Fire Lord's murder, the Sages disqualified Iroh's entire line from the throne. Lu Ten and his son could never be Fire Lord, either. Instead, that honor fell squarely upon Ozai, and his children.

Ozai accepted the position with grace. He was a fine Fire Lord, who continued his father's work; however, under his rule, nothing changed. The siege of Ba Sing Se continued, and the Water Tribes continued to belittle Fire Nation ships - the only difference he made was that, instead of naming Zuko Crown Prince, as tradition demanded, he turned to Azula.

"My daughter," he said. "You were instrumental in my rise to power. You deserve this honor, not your brother; you deserve to be at my side. Do you accept?"

"I do, father," she replied, kneeling at the foot of his throne. She could feel the eyes of her mother and her brother watching her, boring into her back, but she ignored them, keeping her eyes focused on her father. Now, only Ozai stood between her and the throne. His decision to make her his heir would prove to be his downfall.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A year later, once the dust had settled, she began visiting the kitchens. It was innocuous enough, and she made certain to flirt with one particular kitchen boy who she thought was rather pleasing to look at, if he weren't a peasant. But she had more to do than send speculations about her love life flying. Her father was beginning to outlive his usefulness. So slowly, slowly, when the servants were not watching, she began to poison him. It was a tasteless, odorless white powder which she placed in the golden salt shaker reserved for the Royal Family's use. At meals, she was careful never to add salt to her food; rather, she waited and watched her father do so with quiet, calculating eyes.

After a month, he died abruptly in the middle of a war meeting. It was a shock to the entire Nation, but Azula was prepared. She insisted on going through her Father's belongings, claiming that as his favorite child, it was her right. She ordered the Fire Sages to crown her quickly, before Zuko could challenge her claim and throw the Fire Nation headlong into a Civil War. And when cleaning out her father's room, she found a sheet of paper upon which he had written in a shaky hand, _My eyesight is failing, my hearing is fading; I wonder if I am being poisoned… I wonder if Azula is destroying me. I would not be surprised. It was she who planned her grandfather's death. Sometimes, she is a monster._

The words stung, but he was already dead, so Azula forced herself to ignore them. Crumpling it, she set it alight, letting the last evidence to her crimes disappear in smoke.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That day had marked the moment when Azula achieved her dreams. She had struggled, she had fought, but she had won in the end. Sitting in the cold, empty throne room, hated by Ursa, by Lu Ten, and by Zuko, she smiled. This was the life she had chosen for herself. This was the life she had always imagined. When future historians looked back on her reign, they would say the Age of Azula had begun on that day, when her father mysteriously died and she seized control. The world would know her name. Thinking back, she wondered if she would have done things differently. A smirk came across her lips. She wouldn't.


	11. Only Azula

**A/N.** Just a quick drabble I whipped up for Avatar: The Last Writer (an ATLA competition).

oO0Oo

When she first hears the news, she is sitting alone in the garden. "Mother's gone?" she says, her eyes wild. This isn't right. This isn't what was supposed to happen. Zuko should be dead, and she should be an only child… but instead, it seems she and Zuko are only motherless.

"Your mother committed high treason last night," her Father says. "Your grandfather has passed into Agni's grace, and in his dying wish he made me Fire Lord."

Azula knows what her Father does not say. "Does that make Zuko Crown Prince?"

He nods. "It does, but do not fret."

She looks up at him with false innocence. "Why would I fret, Father?"

He places a hand on her shoulder. "My daughter, you inherited my ambition and lust for power. Zuko may be Crown Prince, but he is weak, and it is only a matter of time. You were born second, but that does not matter anymore." His hand tightens on her shoulder, and although it hurts, Azula does not make a sound. He is not talking about her and Zuko any longer, and she dares not interrupt. "Your Grandfather's funeral funeral is at noon."

"When is Mother's?"

He frowns. "I expect such ignorance from Zuko, but not from you." His words cut, and she bows her head. "Your Mother will not receive a funeral. If you knew how the Fire Nation punished traitors, you would have already known that and not asked such a pathetic question."

"Yes, Father." She bites her lip and stares at the turtle-ducks swimming in the pond before her. The littlest one is falling behind, but its siblings keep swimming. Her face hardens. She won't ever be left behind. "May I leave, Father? I would like to research our laws before Grandfather's funeral."

"Of course." The pride in his voice warms Azula. "After the funeral, meet Li and Lo in the courtyard. Your firebending is atrocious."

She blinks. Her teachers all say she is a prodigy. "I thought I was doing well?"

"Do not question me," her Father snaps. Then, his voice kinder, "I am only trying to help you, Azula. Remember that in this world, only the strong survive."

"Yes, Father." She rises to her feet and bows. When she leaves the garden, she makes her way to the Royal Library. There is much to be learned about her Nation's customs... and its laws of succession. When Father said she had inherited his ambition, he was right. To gain the throne, he had discredited his brother and killed his Father; Azula now prepares to do the same. She smirks, a cold, cruel glint in her eyes.

 _Long live Fire Lord Ozai_.


End file.
